


Valheim-The Fallen Shieldmaiden

by SoulUntraveled



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Valheim (Video Game)
Genre: Astrid Hofferson-centric, F/M, Valheim/HTTYD crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29622714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulUntraveled/pseuds/SoulUntraveled
Summary: I was Astrid, a shieldmaiden of the forest. I know nothing of my life before I came here but my arm remembers the sword and my eyes see the course of the arrows.Now the raven guides me and I fight the great beasts in Odin's name.Valheim short(s) with a little bit of headcanon.Now a drabble series! (Because Valheim is wonderful and I have zero impulse control)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

_I was Astrid, a shieldmaiden of the forest. I know nothing of my life before I came here but my arm remembers the sword and my eyes see the course of the arrows._

_Now the raven guides me and I fight the great beasts in Odin's name._

\------------

She knew not where she was. She knew not of the time before. 

All she knows is the howling wind and rain whipping at her face and battering her skin-

-And the great raven claws around her arms as they cut through the thunderstorm and sky.

  
  


She knew nothing else, yet she was not afraid.

She was Astrid, and somehow, she knew the raven would point her way.

  
  
  


\----------

  
  
  


She landed barefoot in the center of a runestone circle, water spilling from her skin, cold biting at her bones. The storm raging on high above her, furious that she had slipped through its scornful thunder and grasping lightning. 

The raven, smaller now though still larger than her by a head, flighted to a standing stone, one of several that loomed over her. Their shadows stretch unnaturally across the earth, as if clawing at her feet for something she didn’t have.

_Well Met!_ Sang the raven. A wise, chirping voice it had. One that came as a caw from its beak, and a knowing voice of an elder messenger in her mind.

Higun is the raven’s name. One of two with a perch on Odin Allfather’s great shoulders. It spoke to Astrid of this place it had borne her to. Valheim, the 10th world. 

Higun spoke of the sacrificial stones that surrounded her now, each bearing the etched resemblance of a Forsaken, ancient, evil beings of great and terrible power. 

Astrid looked upon each Forsaken’s likeness, crudely chiseled into their stones with hateful blows from their creator. 

One stone gave her pause. A terrible lizard sliced into a long stone in flowing lines and jagged teeth. It seemed alien, yet familiar somehow. A spark of memory that slipped through her fingers like grains of sand.

Higun spoke of her purpose here, her task. Find these Forsaken and slay them, then mount their heads on these stones. Then, and only then, could she join Odin in Valhalla.

A daunting task, Astrid thought, a true challenge for even the best warrior.

She smiled.

For she was Astrid. She knew nothing but the wind against her face, the thunderstorm whipping rain against her naked skin, and the raven that had borne her here. She needed nothing else.

  
  



	2. What Astrid knows

Astrid knew the wind, it's gentle touch caressing playfully across her skin.

Astrid knew the storm. It's clouds crackling in the distance, it's rolling majesty darkened heavy with unwept rain below the mighty boughs of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. 

Astrid knew the raven, who guides her and points the way.

Astrid knew the forest, trees of birch, oak, pine, and more. It's creeping vines and vibrant grass tickled at her feet as she padded across it's shaded groves.

Astrid knew the chill of night. It's frigid teeth nipping at her naked limbs and sinking cruelly into her bare flesh.

Astrid knew she needed to find some damn clothes.


	3. Day 1 #1

**DAY 1 #1**

  
  
  


Astrid came upon the skeleton of a rotted hovel, its sloped thatch roof more a suggestion than not. (“langhús” a faint voice whispered, voice feminine, familiar, and alien. Her own? From the Before? “Langhús” - “Longhouse” safe, hearth, home...) 

Then, Astrid knew, she was not the first called to this land.

\--

Hugin watched its charge from the boughs of an aged beech, hunched with the weight of countless years. The messenger Raven’s glowing blue eyes a haunting beacon under the dark cape of night as it followed the warrior-maiden to her new humble dwelling to escape the dying rainstorm that bore them to this land.

Hugin watched over the Reborn until she drifted to sleep, exhausted even though she had traveled no more the edge of the clearing from the Sacrificial stones. 

\--

Astrid knew the morn. Sweet dew dappled the grass, the vines that creeped across the decayed wood beam sheltering her, and settled across her bare skin like a chilled blanket. When she awoke and opened her sky blue eyes Astrid knew the morn sun. It's aweful majesty that peeked cheekfully through a cut in the crumbling wood and onto her face.

Astrid then knew hunger. A ceaseless, hounding emptiness in her gut.

The fallen shieldmaiden rose from the ruin, her blonde locks damp and frazzled, though her eyes hale and face determined. 

The wooden glens about the sacrificial stones were teeming with the chorus and refrain of wildlife, ripe for her reaping hands.

Astrid’s mind knew not of the hunt, but her body knew, instincts and motions remembered from the before. Motions that felt too light and awkward for her bare hands alone. Her fingers grasped for something missing, but what? She could not but wish to remember. She longed for the weight of what she missed and mourned its loss.

If she could not remember then Astrid decided that she would remind herself, or make a new way. 

\---------

  
  



	4. Day 1 #2

**DAY 1 #2**

Astrid knew of stealth. Her feet but a whisper across the forest floor.

Astrid knew of the up-wind. Though no scent but of fresh woods and fertile soil reached her nose she knew the creatures here could sense much more.

Astrid knew more of the hunt. Her skills and knowledge grow as the morn ages on.

Astrid knew as she did more. Her memory slotted into place as she reached out further and puzzled harder. Odd names, shapes, and how she can use them came to her as she remembered.

After all, she had done and accomplished all of this in the past. In the Time Before.

And, Astrid shall do it all again.

\------

Astrid stalked the wooden glens, her footsteps light and her empty hands missing the heft of some forgotten companion. Her back mourning the lack of cloth as well.

Though her head still did not know the names or shapes of such things she craved, her body did. She spirited closer to her destination to the source of the odd snorts and grunts that had beckoned.

She came upon a small herd of short, hunchbacked creatures of thick furred hide and curved white tusks.

(“jöfurr” The familiar feminine voice breathed. “Jöfurr”- “Boar” rough hide for boots, clothes, thick meat and bone for stew.) Stew? Another word that meant nothing to her yet. One that’s meaning balanced on the tip of her tongue, yet refused to fall from her mouth.

The boar were oblivious to the predator haunting the woods, just out of sight.

Astrid knew them easy prey, for one warrior such as her.

The hunter crept around a tall rock to conceal herself and found this no ordinary rock.

On the rock, much like the sacrificial stones were carvings, (Runes! Her own voice exclaimed in her mind. Knowledge, record, knowing, remembering.) glowing hot red, pulsing with the realm’s heartbeat. Though the stone looked ancient and worn, with a cloak of moss adorning its rocky shoulders the runes were clean from who had hewn them into the surface so long ago.

Astrid knew these runes. To her delight she knew their meaning!

“Look also to the wild boar who roam these lands. They fear fire and the hand of man but they can be taught to obey it. Go quietly to them and let them eat of your stock. Roots of the ground are their pleasure.”

Astrid felt a great clench in her breast, her hand pressing over her heart in confusion.

Astrid knew these of runes yes, but… but why did she _know_ the shape these runes? Their every edge and dip?

Why did the hand that had hewn them seem familiar?

\--

Astrid pulled her eyes away from the runestone, angry. The urge to violence bloomed hot in place of the tight vice that squeezed her heart.

Though the runes were a happy rediscovery they were worthless otherwise. She was here to hunt these boar, not tame them like some hapless weakling.

The warrior’s opportunity came when one such boar wandered past the runestone, so absorbed in nosing through the underbrush it did not see her crouched form until it was too late.

With a mighty roar the Fallen Shieldmaiden descended upon the swine, her fists and kicks a blur. Her shin bounced off of the shocked boar’s flank, stunning the creature as it wheezed for breath and squealed in distress.

The shieldmaiden grimaced at the rough impact of her limbs against the boar’s thick hide but otherwise felt not her hunger, only the singing in her blood.

The boar shot past her, keening in pain and growing anger as it rounded a tree and charged its attacker.

Astrid grinned, her stance wide and hands out in challenge. The boar closed, her arms snapped forward like a game-trap.

Then Astrid knew pain.

The boar ran the warrior down, its bulk flung the woman free of the earth, not before its tusks carved a river of flesh from her thigh.

Astrid tumbled on the ground, a scream on her lips. She knew pain, only to be reminded that it was an old friend, especially in the Before.

She bit out a snarl instead.

Astrid knew pain, and would greet it with git and grin.

The warrior rolled to her feet, rivets of thick crimson spilling down her leg. It hurt to bear her weight, but it would not stop her.

The boar charged again, intent on trampling the one who had dared attack it.

Astrid lunged.

Her arms circled its head and tightened around its neck like a noose. The swine squealed as its puffing breath was cut from its lungs. It thrashed in terror as its trotters lifted free of the ground.

Astrid bellowed, her arms tensed, her back tightened, her legs surged as she lifted the panicked creature and brought her prey crashing to the ground stunned.

The rest of the herd looked to the nearby battle, Astrid stilled. Her short battle already winded her, her breath panting, rough. As she was she could not win against such stilted odds.

If the wildlife proved such a challenge, she wondered, what would that make her? Tasked with the purpose of hunting the Forsaken, such eldritch creatures that bore monstrous legend?

Astrid’s eyes flick to a length of wood cast on the ground from the night’s storm. The herd twitched as one, tensing to charge.

Astrid moved first.

The boars’ caterwaul drowned the peaceful forest air, their hooves thunder like the rainstorm.  
The Fallen Shieldmaiden’s new club came down like lightning.

The first boar drove into the earth, its neck broken from the precise blow. The next fell with its jaws splintered in twain. Blood and bone spat from the broken mess of flesh.

The wounded keened in agony. Astrid's hands rejoiced in the familiar weight of a lost companion.

The herd cared not for their fallen, only their urge to sate their rage upon the interloper of their glen. They continued to charge.

The shieldmaiden slew them all.

When the final blow had been struck, all was still

Then Reborn thrust her blooded club to the sky and roared.

For she knew victory- and victory felt like boar-skin pants.

\-----


End file.
